


No Pressure Or Anything

by hooliganism



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bull as a father though, F/M, Modern AU, Modern Thedas, daycare AU, go ahead and hate me i am too far gone to care, solas and krem get a playdate, solas hates it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3153791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hooliganism/pseuds/hooliganism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daycare, stale coffee, diaper bags, Fen’harel making a mess out of the apartment, too many tears in the Veil and not enough time to fix them all, noisy neighbors, really good takeout food, Levallen does not get paid enough for this shit, friends who would maybe like to be more, slight lyrium addiction, a baby elven rebel god, domestic not-so-bliss, not in front of the kids, and maybe a moment of peace for Levallen. </p><p>Alternatively: Solas is stuck in child-form, and turns to his ex-lover for help. Levallen is at the end of her rope with closing all these rifts and saving the world (no pressure or anything) in addition to raising a small elven god of mischief, but that Qunari guy she keeps seeing at the daycare says that she doesn't have to go it alone. She just has to accept a little help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I.

Lavallen sighed, checking her watch. It was five thirty, and she still had to get groceries, pick up dog food, and get supper, and finish the accounts for Leliana. The hallway was full of other parents waiting to pick up their kids from daycare. She slumped on a bench next to a large Qunari man and watched the kids through the two-way mirror as other parents turned in their tags and daycare workers verified that the parent’s tag matched the child’s.

 

“Is one of them yours?” she asked, trying to make a little conversation.

 

He jerked, looking at her. “Uhm, me? Well, not really. Krem isn’t really my, you know. Kid.”

 

His gaze returned to the mirror. “How about you?”

 

“See that little wolf pup?” She gestured to a corner, where a small black-furred, glowing red-eyed pup was wagging its tail and chasing a little glowing ball around. “That’s Solas. He’s my ex-boyfriend-shapeshifting-elf-wolf-mage-deity ... thing. It’s kind of complicated.”

 

He chuckled. “I feel ya. Krem’s just… I dunno, she’s Krem. I just take care of her.”

 

She nodded in silent agreement.

 

“... I haven’t seen you around here before.” the Qunari man remarked after a moment.

 

“Yeah. We’ve only been coming here for about a week. Solas and I are new to the baby-wolf thing. I am so happy that the daycare would take him, you know, him being the Dread Wolf and all. Where are my manners? I’m Levallen.” She offered her hand.

 

The man shook it with vigor. “Iron Bull. Nice to meet ya.”

 

“Next!” the lady at the door called, apparently not for the first time. Iron Bull jumped up and handed her his parent tag. The lady handed him a small human child and the child’s diaper bag, one which someone had scribbled “Bull’s Chargers” on the side in permanent marker. The child, a little girl about two years old, easily fit in the palm of Iron  Bull’s hand. He lifted her up onto his wide shoulders, and the girl grabbed onto his horns to hold on.

 

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Levallen. Wave bye, Krem.” The little girl shyly hid her face. Bull chuckled. “Or not. See ya around.”

 

“Nice to meet you too.” Levallen nodded her goodbye as the worker at the door called “Next!”

 

Levallen stood, fished her parent tag out of her pocket, and handed it to the worker. “734… Solas! Your mamae’s here!” Levallen did not point out that she was not Solas’s mother-- he probably would inform the woman himself.

 

The wolf in the corner dropped the orb he was playing with and trotted over to the door. He sniffed the worker who tried to pick him up and started glowing.

 

Oh my gods, please do not shift here.

 

The glow faded, and instead of a young wolf pup a young elf stood in its place. “Levallen is not my mother.” he pointedly informed the woman. To her credit, the woman did not seem fazed by a shapeshifting elf-wolf (although really, no one should be, because Levallen explicitly wrote ‘member of the elven pantheon, shapeshifts into the Dread Wolf and back into an elf child’ under the ‘Special Considerations’ section of the registration paper. Although if the woman had read the papers, she’d know that Levallen was Solas’s temporary guardian and not his mother.) She matched Solas’s tag to Levallen’s. Solas, with grace that most three-year olds did not have, waved goodbye to the worker and walked out the door.

 

“Hold my hand,” Levallen instructed.

 

“I thought you’d never ask, vhenan.” Familiar words sounded completely alien in a child’s mouth.

 

“Okay, we need to have a talk. First, we broke up years ago. You are not allowed to show up on my doorstep under some de-aging curse and call me ‘vhenan.’ Are we clear so far?”

 

“As crystal, Levallen.” the child replied dryly.

 

“Second. When we’re walking around, you are going to hold my hand so we do not get separated. If you have a problem with that, I’ll get you one of those child leashes.”

 

Solas sighed. “Fine,” he said, and took Levallen’s hand in his tiny fingers.

 

“Third. We’re having takeout tonight. Do you like Tevinter food? Actually, that was not a question. I am having Tevinter takeout and if you have a problem with that then you can go find someone else to take care of your three-year-old ass.”

 

“You really don’t have to take me to a daycare, you know. I’d be fine at your apartment or something.” Solas told her.

 

“Tough shit,” Levallen snapped. “I’m not leaving you home alone, and I’m not taking you to work with me, so you’re going to have to deal with daycare for a while. If you don’t like it, figure out how to change yourself back to your normal age.”

 

The two elves walked the rest of the twelve blocks to Levallen’s apartment in silence.

 

Levallen opened the door to her apartment and flipped the lights on. The familiar mess of her living room greeted her. Solas released her hand and toddled off to his room, which was formerly a storage room, but had been hastily converted into a mage-child’s bedroom. Levallen ordered Tevinter takeout and flopped onto her couch, rubbing her tired eyes.

 

The doorbell rang.

 

Quick delivery, she thought. Levallen hopped over the piles of dirty laundry and old coffee mugs and opened the door.

 

It was not the usual delivery Qunari at the door. It was Cullen.

 

“Hey, Lev,” he smiled.

 

Shit. “... It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?”

 

Cullen laughed. “Yes it is, Lev. If this isn’t a good time for you, I can-”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Levallen sighed. “I just forgot. I’ve been busy. Come on in. I have takeout coming soon, if you haven’t already eaten.”

 

“You always know just what to say, Lev.” Cullen entered and set his briefcase down on the part of the coffee table that wasn’t covered in used dishes or old Dalish hunting knives. She should probably put those away sometime…

 

“It’s actually a good thing you stopped by. I still have to finish those accounts for Leliana. I probably should have turned them in yesterday.”

 

“I only come by every Tuesday, Lev.” He fished some papers out of the briefcase. “How many hours do you figure you put in for the Templars last week?” he asked, pulling out a pen and a legal pad.

 

Levallen sat next to him on the couch and hugged her knees. She did freelance work closing tears in the Veil and battling darkspawn for whoever needed it, which was mostly the Templars and the Circle of Magi and the occasional private citizen. Business had been booming lately. “It’s been a busy week. I logged fifty hours just for the Templars last week, and another ten for the Magi.”

 

Cullen whistled. “Damn. That many tears?”

 

“A lot of minor tears. The Magi had one really huge tear, and I had to kill a couple of demons. Josephine already paid me for that one.” Levallen sighed. “The Veil is getting really weak lately… I don’t know why. Something’s stirring, maybe.”

 

“What’s stirring?” Solas asked.

 

Levallen jumped. Solas had changed back into his Fen’Harel form, small and black and lean and red-glowing eyes. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she scolded him. Seeing Cullen’s look of surprise, she explained. “This is Solas… he’s staying with me for a while. Solas, this is Cullen, a friend from work.”

 

“I am an elven mage and currently under a form of an age-reduction spell,” the small wolf explained to Cullen. “Levallen has generously opened her home to me for the duration of my imprisonment in the body of a three-year-old child.”

 

“So much weird stuff happens to you, Lev, I’m not even surprised anymore.” Cullen remarked.

 

“Yeah, me neither. Solas, Cullen and I are going to do some work. There’s a new chew toy in the kitchen for you, if you want it.”

 

Solas’s eyes glowed brightly, and his tail wagged happily as he ran off to the kitchen.

  
“Okay.” Levallen spread out papers on the coffee table. “Let’s finish those damn reports for Leliana.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levallen and Cullen have a talk about Serious Things.

II.

“Do you remember what I told you about the vallaslin?” Solas asked the next morning as he and Levallen walked to daycare.

“Yeah, you told me they were slave markings. Right before you dumped me. Thanks for bringing it up, Fen’harel.” 

“I always wondered... why did you choose the bloodwriting of Elgar’nan?” 

“He’s the pantheon deity of vengeance. I felt a kindred spirit.” Levallen snapped. “What’s it to you anyways?”

“Nothing. I was merely curious.”

Remembering the man, Iron Bull, she’d met the day before, Levallen asked, “Did you meet a little girl at daycare named Krem? About two years old?”

“I am acquainted with Cremisius. Her vocabulary is sufficiently advanced for her age. I have never heard a child swear so fluently before. She is also quite adept at throwing things and is excellent to play fetch with.”

Levallen inwardly smiled. Solas might be a member of the elven pantheon and god of rebellion, but for now he was a kid, with a child’s exuberant energy and boundless enthusiasm. She was really surprised that he had made a friend- or an ‘acquaintance,’ at any rate. She was very amused with the notion of Fen’harel playing fetch with a little human girl.

 Levallen was mildly disappointed that the Iron Bull was not with the other parents dropping their children off at the daycare center for the day, and then she wondered why she was disappointed. She had literally just met the guy the day before and talked to him for about five minutes. She shook her head, mussing her hair in its sloppy ponytail and cleared her thoughts.

 The Chantry offices were located in the Andraste Park section of town, nearby the main Orlesian cathedral and across from the public Andraste Memorial Park. Everything, from the architecture to the immaculate lawns to the bronze statues of Andraste herself practically screamed holy ground. Levallen was never untouched by the beauty of the buildings and gardens, but found that the beauty was distant and cold- a place for scholarly types to think Deep Thoughts and talk about Important Things.

 Levallen was never an overly deep thinker. She preferred to smash things first and ask questions later.

 Cullen had been reassigned to the main Chantry campus after his previous Knight-Commander went mad and the Circle of Magi in Ferelden fell. The Chantry made it out to be some kind of reward for his hard work, but Cullen knew what it really was: professional exile. The Chantry worried about Kirkwall Templars going bad, and kept the survivors in small offices where they could be carefully monitored. Cullen’s office was on the second floor of the Templar office. He was one of their military advisors. Levallen got most of her assignments through him, and they’d developed a solid working relationship over the past few months. He was more tolerant of mages- or at least, more tolerant of her- than many Templars she had had the misfortune to encounter over the past year.

 Levallen didn’t bother to knock on the white door with a cheap name plate that read C. Rutherford. She simply walked into his office. “Cullen, I went over the reports again last night and I think--”

 Maybe she should have knocked. Cullen was standing on his desk trying to reach the top of a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. Levallen’s sudden entrance startled him, and the Templar fell unceremoniously off his desk and onto his rear.

 “Maker’s breath, Levallen. I wasn’t expecting you,” he stated, standing and readjusting his armor.

 “Why were you even standing on your desk. In full armor.” Levallen raised an eyebrow.

 Cullen gestured to a few small boxes in a corner. “I’ve given the Chantry my two weeks’ notice. I’m gathering my personal belongings.”

 “You’re leaving the Templars!?” Levallen cried. “So are you really going to join with Lady Pentaghast!”

 “Yes.” Cullen replied. “Too often the Chantry has its hands tied with politics and red tape, and the organization is rotting from the inside. I think that Seeker Pentaghast is really onto something here. And,” he added, “you might do well to join with us too. The Chantry employs you to seal rifts in the Fade, but most of them don’t trust you. They think you’re a dangerous mage at best, and a demon at worst.”

 “It’s true that the Chantry isn’t really fond of me,” Levallen conceded, “but they’re really the only ones doing anything about the tears in the Fade. No one else--”

 “No, _you’re_ the only one doing anything about the tears in the Fade.” Cullen interrupted. “And with the tensions between mages and Templars running so high right now, it’s only a matter of time before someone decides that you’re dangerous and have you made Tranquil.”

 Levallen involuntarily shuddered. She had never asked to be granted this weird power during the accident a few months ago, but the prospect of being made Tranquil… the notion didn’t bear thinking about. She felt like she’d had the power forever, and she hated the thought of losing it.

 “You think I should stop freelancing and start going pro bono?” she joked to remove some of the tension in the room. Cullen didn’t smile.

 “I think that the Seeker’s idea is for the best. Maybe with her new force, we can actually change things! Do some good! Actually _help_ people! Maybe we should break away from the established organizations and pave our own road. Choose our own destiny,” he finished quietly.

 Levallen held up her hands on mock surrender. “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I agree with you and we go join the Lady Seeker. What could we do that they Chantry isn’t already doing?”

 Cullen laughed darkly. “Is that even a question? The Chantry has its hands full with the mage-Templar wars and the new rifts. And they refuse to even credit you for your work because they’re trying to save face! They’re letting a mage-- practically an apostate, since you’re independent of the Circle-- handle matters for them, but they treat you like a trained dog! They demean you for the ways that you close the rifts and kill demons. Don’t you think that you deserve better than that? That we should be able to deal with this problem as we see fit?”

 “The Chantry is the power here, Cullen. To go against them… we’d be heretics at best. Who are we to take matters into our own hands and decide what’s best for Orleas? For Thedas?”

 “My father once told me something, before I left home to join the Templars. He said that those who have the _ability_ to act also have the _responsibility_ to act.” He sighed. “Forgive me. I’ve been on edge lately. I did not mean to be rude or lecture you on the failings of the Chantry.”

 Levallen waved her hand, dismissing the apology. “I understand, Cullen. Things have been tough lately, and we’re all stressed. But I did want to speak to you about something.”

 “Of course. What did you wish to speak of?”

 “Remember how I said that the Fade was more…  restless, I guess, than usual? And the abnormal number of rifts we’ve been having lately?”

 He nodded. “You said that you thought something was stirring.”

 “Yeah, that. I did a little research last night, and I think that the unusual Fade activity is…. something of a warning.”

 “A warning? You couldn’t possibly mean…” Cullen trailed off, his eyes widening with realization.

Levallen took a deep breath. “Yes. I think it could be the beginning of another Blight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for the positive feedback guys! (Or any feedback at all, actually.) It means the world to me.


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